No matter how hard he triesto reasonwith his uglier halfhe knows the time is come againfor walking.Resigned to ithe takes the great iron bootsfrom his closetfastens them clangingto his feet, first rightthen lefteyes closeddown the steps – will they hold?They do.

A mighty effortover the thresholddown the walkwayraising great clouds of dustout into sleepy fieldsletting them have their way nowcounting each crushing stepone hundredfive hundreda thousand.Heavy with innocent gorethey bring him backto his front door at lastrelease himfor a brief intervalallow him to restuntil it’s timeto go walking again.